A/N: I don't really like this chapter. Sorry, I just feel that it lacks... something. I'm not quite sure what, I just know it's not my favorite chapter. Anyways, hopefully you guys will find it more enjoyable, and just know that I actually finished a future chapter last night (at two in the morning, may I add) and it's filled with drama and action & I really like that one :) haha, this story still has quite some time to go ;) Sorry for the short chapter, by the way, I was just bored with this chapter and couldn't think of anything of value to write - Anyways, if you could please leave me a review telling me what you thought about this story/chapter, I'd really appreciate it - reviews make me write/update much faster! ;)

Disclaimer: Again... I don't own Camp Rock, nor it's sequel. Yup, I'm a failure :(

I almost didn't dare to hope, despite Shane's words of encouragement, because I didn't want to get my hopes up high, only to have them crash and burn when Dr. Collins told me that it wasn't possible. Taking a deep breath, I waited for Shane to continue.

"From what I understand, yes, someone did cause you to become blind, and he also said that your headache -" I touched my head gingerly at the thought, noting that the pain had hardly lessened at all, "could be a response to a drug he suspects they've given you." I groaned. Shane had only just began to explain what was going on, and already, I was terrified beyond belief of what he'd already said, and what else he was going to say. "He also thinks that's the reason for your memory loss, and he suggested that if - when - it wears off, then maybe you'll also get some of your memories back."

So, at least, there was some hope that I'd be able to remember, most of all, why I was even in Los Angeles today, and maybe where I lived, or another important thing I'd forgotten.

"So, at least that explains your headaches. And as to your reaction to those eye drops he added - well, as you already know, he suspects you weren't born blind, but that either something happened, or someone caused you to become blind." Every word out of his mouth sounded forced - as if he wanted to just stop talking completely. I didn't blame him - I wanted so badly to raise my hands up, cover my ears, and pretend that none of this was happening.

There was a long pause, as if Shane had decided he'd said enough, but I could tell there was something more than what he was telling me.

"Shane," I sighed, leaning forwards, my hand reaching out and, after a moment, finding his, "What is it?" He didn't reply immediately, and when he did, his voice was thick with unreadable emotion.

"Dr. Collins said something else. He has a hutch that - from the way you reacted to the drops he gave you..." Shane trailed off again, and I heard him give a small, discreet groan. Biting my lip, I waited for him to continue, afraid of what he was going to say next, since obviously, it was bothering him. "He thinks he knows who - or should I say, which company has the right tools to do... you know." I heard him take a deep breath, as if he was afraid to keep speaking, and I felt a slow panic creeping up over me. "The company is run by a Mr. Torres."

xXxXx

I felt my heart stop as Shane's words sunk in. Mr. Torres. I closed my eyes, trying to fight the increasing urge to slam my fists into something, once again, and I flinched, pulling away as Shane tried to take my hand. I didn't want him to touch me, I didn't want to be comforted... I wanted the truth. From what I'd learned today, Mr. Torres was my father...

I sucked in a breath, a hand shooting up to cover my mouth as I considered throwing up at the very thought of what Shane - and, indirectly, Dr. Collins - was implying. If what we'd thought about Mr. Torres was true, and he owned the company that was apparently responsible for my blindness... with a groan, I pulled my knees up to my chest, burying my head.

"Mitchie... Dr. Collins didn't say that for sure, only that Mr. Torres' company was the only one with the ability to do something like this. We don't know anything for sure - Dr. Collins said he'd like to try a few more tests, later, after you've rested. We can go back tomorrow, if you want."

I ignored him, knowing he was only rambling because he was just as nervous, hurt, and angry as I was.

"So that's why you were mad earlier." I whispered, the harsh way he'd been acting suddenly making sense. "You weren't angry at me, but at my father." I choked on the last word, my heart jumping into my throat as I imagined what kind of man my father was - obviously, he wasn't a good dad at all, if Dr. Collins was correct. What kind of father would do such a thing to his own daughter?

"Of course I wasn't mad at you - how could I be? None of this is your fault." Shane's tone was gentle, filled with sadness, and another emotion I didn't want to decipher at the moment. How could anyone - especially a father - be so horrible?

Part of me was desperate to deny this new information - to not believe anything until it was proven true - but after everything that had happened today, it wasn't as hard to believe as I'd like to be. I wished that I could say confidently that Dr. Collins was wrong, but I couldn't. In fact, I knew he was most likely right. I don't know why I was so sure that Dr. Collins was speaking the truth, but I was confident that he was.

I didn't know why I was so quick to pass the blame off on this Mr. Torres (whom we're assuming is even my father), but all I knew was that my headache was increasing and all I wanted to do was puke, then pass out.

"I need to lie down, please." I asked quietly, although Shane must've heard me, because hardly a moment later, I heard him jump up off the couch, and the next second he was pulling me up, gently, his arm around my waist as he half-carried me. If it had been on different terms, I might've been embarrassed by the fact that I was so weak I couldn't even support myself, and had to have Shane Gray help me even stand - it was pathetic.

"I'll take you to the guest room," Shane offered, and I nodded slightly, stumbling as I tried to keep up with him. I heard him give a soft sigh, before I was hoisted up into his arms bridal-style. Too dizzy to protest, I simply wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his shirt, trying to pull my emotions in check.

There was the low creak of what I figured was a bed as Shane set me down and then sat down on the edge of the bed next to me, and I could hear his worried breathing, although he remained silent for a moment.

"Mitchie, nothing's set in stone as of now..." Shane began, but I only clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth as I raised my hand up, signalling for him to stop speaking.

"Not now. Don't try to make me feel better or shield me from the truth, which is that you and Dr. Collins already know pretty much what's happened, and who made it happen. I don't want to be shielded, and I don't want you to lie to me and give me a false comfort. I don't want soft words and candy apples, Shane, I just want the cold hard truth, no matter how... terrible it is." I swallowed harshly, feeling my body tremble as I exhaled shakily.

Shane didn't respond using many words - instead, he simply reached out and grabbed my hand softly in his own, squeezing it gently. I couldn't help the tears that managed to escape from my eyes at his kind gesture, although simple it had touched me deeply. How a complete stranger had managed to be so kind and caring, while my own father had caused my blindness, made absolutely no sense and simply reminded me that I lived in a warped reality.

"I think maybe you should get so some sleep, Mitchie." Shane's voice broke into my thoughts, after moments of silence, and I paused, nodding slightly in response, his words reminding me of how exhausted the day's events had caused me to become.

"I think, that maybe you're right." I smiled, allowing myself a small laugh, and I heard Shane chuckle in response. A sudden yawn forcing it's way out of my mouth, I sighed softly, my grip tightening on Shane's hand. "Don't leave me?" I whispered, not sure that Shane had even heard me until he responded, just as quietly.

"Never."

xXxXx

Something was wrong. I could tell, by the thickness of the air, and the dark gray skies that loomed threateningly overhead, and the way my heart was beating way too fast, and my breathing unsteady. Confused, I stumbled forwards, my eyes firmly fixed on the small shed that lay a few feet away, nestled among a grove of tall, dense trees. Frowning, I glanced around, wondering why my heart was racing and I felt as if I'd been running forever.

And then it hit me, that I could see my surroundings. Confused, filled with joy and yet apprehension, I remained tense, unsure of what was going to happen next. I was afraid - afraid of the fact that I could see, that every part of me was aching and tired out, that I had no clue as to where I was. Hesitantly, I decided to make my way towards the shed, my eyes darting towards the trees every few seconds.

I reached the shed and, cautiously, reached out and grabbed hold of the door knob, half afraid to turn it, for fear of what was on the other side. I should have listened to my gut feeling, should have walked away from the shed, but instead I turned the knob, and instantly frowned.

I had stepped inside of a small, brightly lit lab. Test tubes with multi-colored liquids surrounded me on either sides, with small bottles lying everywhere, and various tools that I didn't recognize. Somewhat hesitant, I continued forwards cautiously, my eyes flickering from the bright lights to the small white table that was standing in the middle of the room.

"It's just not right yet." The voice surprised me, and I jumped, spinning around. My eyes wide, I stepped back, knocking various tubes off of the crowded table behind me, hearing them shatter on the floor, but the man in the white lab coat didn't seem to hear them break, or notice me in the least bit. He had his back turned to me, leaning over a small vile of liquid, his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated heavily on his work. He picked up another jar, adding a few more drops to the liquid in front of him, watching it carefully. "Ah, finally, it's almost ready." There was a sort of greediness in his tone, which was something I couldn't understand, as I stood watching him, wondering what had captivated his attention so readily.

I jumped as he clapped, a smile lighting up his face, and as he turned, he finally seemed to notice me. His smile widened, and I hesitated, something still feeling unsure about the situation.

"Ahh, Michaela!" He grinned, and I frowned, although the name sounded somewhat foreign to my ears, there was a familiar feeling to the name he'd just called me. Maybe 'Mitchie' was just short for Michaela. I shoved the thought away, though, as he stepped forwards, his arms outstretched towards me. "The potion is ready - you shall be my first victim." Although there was a sort of teasing note to his tone, I could hear the underlying meaning to his words, and instantly, I shook my head, stepping backwards, my hand reaching behind me as I felt for the door, not wanting to take my eyes off of him.

Before I could get very far, however, I let out a scream as two pairs of arms caught hold of me from behind, and I saw the man once again grin.

"Mitchie, you know that's no way to behave. You know as well as I do that you will do this." He moved closer to me, and my eyes rested on the small vile that he now held in his hands, advancing towards me, smiling somewhat maniacally. I cried out, wishing that something would stop what I knew was about to happen next - where was Shane now? Wildly, my eyes darted around the small building, although he was no where to be found - I was alone with the man - whom I could safely assume must be Mr. Torres - and the other two people holding me firmly.

He came to a stop in front of me, examining the panicked look in my eyes, before he smiled again, giving a nod. In an instant, a hand found it's way through my hair, yanking my head back into a painful position, and I felt Mr. Torres move his hand up, the small vile still coming closer and closer to my face. Kicking and screaming, I tried my best to escape from this fateful scenario, but all in vain. I cried out as I felt Mr. Torres drop some of his mixture into my eyes...

"Mitchie!" I heard my name from far away, sounding distant and musical to my ears, but I couldn't break free of the terrible images flashing through my head. Jerking subconsciously as I tried to shove the person who was shaking my shoulders away from me, I kicked out. "Oof!"

I screamed as my eyes flashed open, once again met by the terrible engulfing darkness, and I shot up, noting my racing heart and winded breathing, before I managed to focus, hearing someone else moan, sounding as if they were in pain.

"Shane?" I asked, still shaking from what I now realized was simply a nightmare - although it had undeniably felt very real. After a moment of silence, where I could hear only our nervous breathing, he replied.

"Yes?" The word sounded as if he'd spoken through clenched teeth, and after another moment, I felt and heard the bed sink down, signalling he was now beside me.

"Are you okay? Why were you on the floor?" I asked, frowning as I spoke. Shane chuckled softly under his breath, although there was only a dry humor in his tone.

"You were having a nightmare, and when I tried to wake you up, you kicked me in the stomach and knocked the wind right out of me." He replied, his breathing now sounding more even. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped from myself at his words.

"I'm sorry - I didn't mean to hurt you. It was just all so real..." I trailed off, trying to block the pictures that were flashing through my mind, and the consuming thought that it was my 'father' who'd inflicted all this pain upon me.

"Oh Mitchie." There was a sigh in Shane's voice, a note of sorrow, as though he could already guess what my nightmare had been about, and I sucked in a breath, wondering exactly what it had been like - to be some test rat for my father, to be treated in such a way... "It's okay, Mitchie, you're safe now." He spoke softly as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a much needed hug, and I cried into his shoulder, the images from the nightmare still all too fresh in my mind.

"You're safe now." He repeated, his grip on me tightening, and I leaned against him, sobbing as I came to face the truth that it had been my father who'd inflicted this blindness upon me.

"You're safe now." And yet, somehow, I didn't quite believe him.